The Last Person to post wins XVIII

How high's the water, mama?
Five feet high and risin'
How high's the water, papa?
Five feet high and risin'

Well, the rails are washed out north of town
We gotta head for higher ground
We can't come back till the water comes down,
Five feet high and risin'

Well, it's five feet high and risin'
 
Your greasy hands, your salty lips
Looks like you found the chips
Your belly aches, your teeth grind
Some tator tots would blow your mind

And you don't mind if they're not cooked
You need your fix, I guess you're hooked
And late at night you always dream
Of bacon bits and sour cream

Whoah, you like them even if they're lumpy or tough, oh yeah
Whee, It's pretty obvious to me you can't get enough
You know you're gonna have to face it
You're addicted to spuds

Might as well face it, you're addicted to spuds
Might as well face it, you're addicted to spuds
Might as well face it, you're addicted to spuds
Might as well face it, you're addicted to spuds
Might as well face it, you're addicted to spuds
 
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